Secrets of the woods

Do you wish to hear a secret?

Put on your boots and go into the woods

Go as a child would

Running and skipping with eyes full of wonder

There you will find a certain grove of trees

And a little patch of moss in the centre

Plant your feet into the earth and

Stretch your arms up to the patch of blue

Now close your eyes and breathe

If you stand very still, very patiently

Your eight year old ears will open

And you will hear once again the murmurs of the forest

The trees are speaking

Telling the story of the deepest mystery

The rising of sap in the spring

And the origin of the colour green

~lg

2 Comments

  1. Your poetry has reminded me of many happy times spent in the woods growing up, both near our homes and at the cottage. I almost feel like trying to write some poetry myself!
    Wonderful places those woods, in winter too, with frosty whites outside and toasty fires inside.

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